FEAR OF MIRRORS

My balancing act is on the edge:
Body panic escalates and I have nightmares
About flowers.
Suffer for my art?
Not half.
Yet that fitful light is a symbol of hope
But not for me – or you.
You say it’s time to float out,
Dazzled by sparkling sunshine
On the wrong side of the moon.
Yes, I’m light years from home
Staring into a constellation mirror, and
A girl from the future breaks into
The strong room,
And a boom box booms;
Carnations and beatniks blast around.

This isn’t Carnaby Street, young lady.
She stands back aghast, in her
Op Art jumpsuit.
What is it really for?
Who do they protect?
Ugly love, graveyard Gothic,
Corsets and hobnailed boots.
No laughing matter,
Tremors and shakes.
Apologies, I have none
Just a very special guest
With nothing to declare.
Running out of ice?
So many questions,
Too many answers.